


Richie Tozier gets merc'd by miss muffet (live footage)

by Magpie_Pen



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: M/M, Reddie, Sorry Not Sorry, pennywise is a bitch, what if richie got skewered instead?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpie_Pen/pseuds/Magpie_Pen
Summary: what if Richie had saved Eddie? what if it fucked him over? Welcome to something I wrote and made myself sad with!
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Richie Tozier gets merc'd by miss muffet (live footage)

“Wanna play truth or dare? Here’s the truth- you're a sloppy bi-”

Silence.

Loud, almost deafening silence overtook the cave as Richie’s body was yanked upwards and turned inside out like a fuckin build-a-bear, his mouth almost unhinged and eyes wide and glossy as he took in nothing and _so so much_ at the same time. Richie saw it, his eyes were peeled back by force, and he _saw it._ He saw himself falling like a puppet cut from its strings into a heap, a frantic and adrenaline high Eddie rushing him and crowding into his space, shouting, _I think I did it Rich! Rich!_ Then, the most heartbroken, confused _Richie?_ As he watched little Eddie get the same treatment he had gotten from It, but with a more hands-on approach. Richie felt his throat go raw with screams, his heart crushed. He saw them doing just that to the other mother looking ass spider bastard as it waxed poetic about them _growing up_ or some other weirdly parental garbage. Richie saw them going to the Barrons, jumping off the cliff, him losing it for the first time that he can remember in front of everybody. 

Richie saw his life without Eddie, and goddamnit, he was not fucking having that. 

Richie felt it begin, his body dropping to the ground, strings cut. He heard Eddie start to say his name, so excited and so proud of himself, and Richie acted. He didn't think, he never had, just yanked Eddie to the side and covered him. He had waited with bated breath to hear the claw smash into the rock beside them. And he did hear an impact- the same impact he had heard in the deadlight. Solid, followed by a wheezy breath, and _wet._

Richie was confused. He was looking at Eddie right now, beneath him, sharing the same look of confusion. That mask soon morphed into horror, and fear. Richie wanted to grab his face and say _no no no Eds no I moved you, I changed fate, don't make that face, please._

“Eds? Eddie?” he tried to say, coming out a lot weaker than he had intended, sounding far away, as if someone else had said it. And suddenly, Eddie was not under him anymore. Eddie was _gone._ Richie felt his head get snapped downwards at the force as he was yanked up and finally thought, _oh._ This is how it goes. His world exploded into a flavor of pain Richie had never tasted, which was saying a lot considering the beautiful buffet his middle school years had granted him. He heard an anguished cry behind the roaring in his ears before his neck was whipped to the side and his body collided with the floor. He felt like he was underwater. Well actually, it felt like he was under fucking _lava_ , with his adrenaline slowly bleeding out of him. He felt his body being moved again and, god _damn_ that clown was really laying into him, huh? A warm, suspiciously not claw-shaped hand supported his head and he found himself staring into the wide eyes of one Eddie Kaspbrak. An Eddie kaspbrak who looked seconds away from a coronary. 

“Shit,” Richie huffed, voice thick with what he hoped was emotion and NOT blood, “your mom...really did a number on me huh…?” Eddie’s face held disbelief. 

“W,what? What did, what?” Eddie asked breathlessly. He seemed distracted. He was too busy running his hands up and down Richie’s body, checking for wounds. Well, checking for wounds other than the gaping hole in Richie Chest he was just now coming to terms with. Richie felt a shit-eating grin slid across his face with ease. 

“...blew my back out,” he wheezed. Eddie let out a loud, wet laugh, holding a hand over his face. He looked devastated. Richie was not having that. His only purpose in life was to make Eddie laugh, or at least get a good-natured scowl out of him. He needed to fix this. “You look like someone died,” he tried. uh oh. Wrong this to say, apparently, as Eddie let out a strangled cry. Eddie whipped his head around from where he had stashed Richie, he was desperately searching for another Loser, someone to _help them._ Richie reached both arms up with considerable trouble and grabbed Eddie’s face in his hands, turning it towards him before letting his limbs flop back into place. 

“Eds, Spaghetti, Spaghedwar-” Richie was caught on a wet choking noise. He really should be in more pain, he thinks, considering the giant hole in his chest he has yet to scope out. But Richie felt oddly… calm. Numb. okay with this. Maybe this is what he had been preparing for since childhood. Since that very first showdown. Richie had talked a big game, been the first to say they had to kill this fucking clown, but he knew. Maybe more intimately than Stan did, but more repressed. He _knew_ Miss Muffet was going to merc him one day. And today, Richie hazards to guess was going to be that day. He had had almost 30 years to come to terms with it, and now all he wanted to do was make Eddie listen to him. 

“Listen, _dude,_ listen.” Richie rasped. The words felt like they were being pulled out of him by kids playing operation that kept purposefully hitting those stupid fucking metal walls. “...chill.” Richie’s vision was swimming more and he so desperately wished that this experience had made him brave. He was almost 40 for fucks sake, had fought a killer clown from outer space twice, and he was still a coward. He couldn’t bring the words to pass his lips. He had no idea as to if they would soothe Eddie, or bring him more distress, but Richie would never know. Because Richie was no longer Richie. Richie was a corpse. Richie was a body. Richie’s last words to the love of his life had been “chill.”.

Eddie hadn’t thought anything when he saw Richie above him besides, _I wish we were doing this in different circumstances, minus the spider eldritch horror_ , before 

“Eds? Eddie?” Richie should not sound small, Richie Tozier should never sound small, or fragile, or scared as he did in that moment. Richie Tozier was larger than life.  
Richie was suddenly about ten feet above him, slack-jawed as he was just seconds ago when he was caught in the deadlights, with a spider claw through his chest. Eddie felt a scream stick in his throat, vomit following closely behind. Eddie had never wanted to see Richie look so _small_ , dangling above him, his face a mask of confusion. He looked twelve again, Eddie realized all gangly limbs and childlike fear, _childlike confusion._ Eddie wanted to scream, to rage, _Put him down, you big bully! Put him down!_ And had never regretted wishing for something as fast as he had in that moment, as Richie’s body was flung to the side like a bag of dog shit, and landed in a heap. A scream finally tore it’s way out of his throat, raw and pained. It alerted the other losers, just barely noticing Eddie running like the devil was on his heels towards a lump of bones and blood. 

Eddie scooped Richie up, muttering _come on come on comeon,_ to himself. Eddie used his body weight to pull Richie’s limp body away from the wildly swinging arms of the Clown, dragging him to safety. Richie’s face was dazed, pallid, sweaty, and- Eddie didn't bother to stifle a sob as the last word pushed its way into his brain, _Dead._ he barely registered in his panic what Richie was saying, or that Richie’s corpse was speaking to him at all. 

“....r mom… really did a number on me huh…?” Eddie sputtered. “Blew my back out…” Richie choked out. Eddie couldn’t help the relief course through him. Richie was talking, Richie was still alive, Richie was okay. A laugh forced its way out of his throat without his permission, wet and strangled. “You look like someone died.” Richie finished. It was that word that did Eddie in. Died. Eddie felt the panic crush him again. 

Eddie ripped his gaze away from Richie, searching for _anyone_ , before he was being pulled back by slick hands, pulled right back into Richie’s gaze. The only thing registering in Eddie’s mind was, _where are his glasses?_ Richie needs his glasses to see, the blind fool. He was brought back from this train of thought with a soft, 

“Listen, dude, listen,” Eddie obeyed, keeping quiet and listening. Just like Richie wanted. “Chill.” it hit him like a freight train. His mind went blank. Chill. He slowly started to register shouting behind him, cheers, as he looked into Richie’s bare eyes, so open and vulnerable. Scared, but smiling. So.

Dead. 

Eddie felt himself screaming before he heard it. He felt rage engulf him. He registered arms around him, he registered the ground shaking, a woman in his ear telling him to let go.  
“KILL YOU! ILL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU FUCKING CLOWN!” he shrieked.  
‘...et go of him Eddie, babe, babe, he’s gone, _Eddie._ ” Beverly begged. Eddie whipped towards her, pushing her away and beginning to desperately search the floor.  
“His glasses, his glasses. We need his glasses, he can’t see,” Eddie shouted at the others, facing Bill now. “You know he’s half-blind Bill! He can't fucking _see_ , why are you just _standing there?_ ” he screamed. He heard Beverly let out a wet sob behind him and watched Bill’s face crumple.  
“He doesn’t need them, Eddie,” Beverly wept. “He doesn’t need them anymore.” Eddie grabbed for Richie again, pulling him tight against his own chest as Ben grabbed for him.  
“LET ME GO BEN!” he screamed. “DONT FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” but Ben’s grip did not falter.  
“We can’t take him, and we need to leave _now_ ,” Mike yelled, sounding as choked up as the rest of them, but the voice of reason he had to be. Eddie felt himself get yanked away from Richie. He began throwing his limbs every which way, waiting for something to connect. Soon enough Richie was fading away, growing smaller and smaller in the distance as Eddie was carried. 

When they hit sunlight, Eddie was tired. When they got to the quarry, Eddie only wanted to go back to the hole in the ground that was now Richie’s grave. Eddie was the last one in the water, standing stock still as the others celebrated. After a few minutes of cry-laughing and hugs, Eddie felt a hand touch his arm. He looked up at Beverly. She gave him a soft smile full of the same pain Eddie was barely comprehending in himself.  
“I found something,” she said softly, pulling something out of her back pocket, having difficulty with her shaking hands and soaked jeans. She pressed the object into Eddie’s hand and he broke. A low, strangled sob ripped it’s way from his chest as he looked down at Richie’s glasses, broken and blood-stained, but Richie’s glasses. His stupidly thick, turtle shell glasses. “He doesn’t need them right now but… you do.” she whispered. Eddie threw his arms around Beverly, holding her as tight as he could. He felt more arms encircle him. He felt protected, he felt warm.

He felt the absence of two pairs of arms.  
  


  
  



End file.
